


Toxic

by mardi89



Category: Hercai (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Forced Marriage, Light Angst, Love/Hate, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 04:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20651048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardi89/pseuds/mardi89
Summary: "There's no escapeI can't waitI need a hitBaby, give me itYou're dangerousI'm lovin' it"





	Toxic

**Author's Note:**

> Toxic - Yael Naim

She woke in the same way she had for the past two weeks. It was just before dawn and the nights were chilly, but she was burning hot. It had become her custom to carefully slip out of bed and dress quickly in the darkness before sneaking out of his room to find some cool quiet place to calm herself. The most difficult of these tasks was actually getting out of bed. Not because she was too tired or too comfortable, no. It was because he was all but plastered to the back of her, his strong arm around her waist, palm planted on the mattress just under her breasts. 

She shut her eyes briefly and took a cleansing breath. It slowed her heart only a little, but made her more focused on her goal: escape. Sometimes she wondered how she got herself into this situation, how everything snowballed until the only way to stop the avalanche was to make a drastic move. It was ultimately her choice; to make a deal with Azize, to save Azat, to marry Miran. It seemed like the lesser of the evils in the moment, but she neglected to think about all the repercussions. Like living in a house with his evil grandmother and his manipulative ex-wife. She told herself it was the price she was willing to pay to protect her family, but she had no idea how difficult it would really be. 

When they were married two weeks ago she had to give up everything; her home, her family, her belongings. Her family had no idea about the deal she made with Azize, so when she took Miran’s hand and his mother’s ring, they labeled her a traitor and hadn’t spoken to her since. She went to live at Aslanbey Mansion, staying in her husband’s room, the same one he once locked her in for days. He wasn’t locking her up now that they were married, but he did take precautions. He knew that she wasn’t exactly safe in his family’s home, so he gave her a key so she might come and go to his room as she pleased, able to have at least one safe space. 

It wasn’t so safe though. She hadn’t been attacked again, and she felt relatively comfortable there with all the new things he bought for her, clothes and medical books, soft sheets and fluffy pillows. But here in his bedroom she didn’t feel safe from her own feelings. It was true that they had a forced marriage, that he had yet to say he was sorry or that he loved her, and she had every reason to hate him. Still, she couldn’t deny her love for him, no more that she could control her body’s reaction to his. 

It was her habit to turn in early every night. She had taken to eating a small dinner in the kitchen as Esma Anna finished cooking the big meal, preferring the company of the gentle old woman over that of her husband’s venomous family. After clearing her dishes and occasionally helping Esma with finishing touches, she would climb the stairs to the bathroom. Washing her face and dressing for bed was one of her favorite parts of the day. Each step in her skincare routine was a step closer to sleep and the sweet escape it brought. She normally wore a thin nightgown with a dressing gown over it, and fuzzy white slippers on her feet. Miran had bought the set for her and as much as she would never admit it to him, she loved it. It was a luxury in an otherwise unluxurious environment. 

She shuffled back to his room, shower bag and towel in hand. She unlocked the door, then locked it behind her once more. As she hung her towel and put her things away she couldn’t help but miss him a little. He’d been avoiding her she knew. Since she blew up at him and told him off on their wedding night he’d been skittish around her. And she had to admit that she hurt him when in a fit of frustration she told him that she married him for Azat’s sake and not because she loved him. He slept outside that night, and she only felt a little bad. But even though he would avoid her most of the day, preferring to stay at work until late, he still came home, to his room, every night. 

The first time it happened she woke in a panic. She naively thought she had the only key, so when she woke up at dawn, tucked under the covers with him draped around her over them, she was frightened. Her desperation to remove herself from the situation led her to run away that morning, but now it had become their routine. He would return home late from work when she was already asleep and slip his shoes off near the door then curl up beside her. She in turn would wake up just before dawn to the feeling of his nose in her hair and his manhood pressed against her backside, then sneak out of the room before he could wake up or she could give in to temptation. 

She opened her eyes again and drifted out of her thoughts and back into the moment. Just like the past dozen mornings he was wrapped around her like tree roots, face in the hair at the nape of her neck, his muscular thighs and his warm hardness pushing against the round softness of her bottom. It took a considerable effort to not press herself back into him and seek the friction that she so desperately craved. She successfully extricated herself from his arms without waking him, then put on a green floral midi length dress and slid her house slippers on. With one last look at his boyish sleeping face, she unlocked the bedroom door and shut it quietly behind her as she stepped out to greet the morning. 

The first few mornings she did this she went exploring, discovering the ins and outs of the large mansion. She didn’t feel free enough to go where she pleased during the day, what with Azize and Gonul and Sultan around, but at dawn she could go almost anywhere. She never ventured outside the Konak, mostly because there was nowhere else for her to go and if she tried leaving through the front door the guard would just alert Miran and he would come down to get her and drag her back with him to his room. It wasn’t freedom, but finding a quiet corner and standing against the stone wall to watch the sunrise was as close as she could come. It reminded her of her time in her own family mansion, feeling trapped but having that yearning for something more deep inside. Now her yearning was of a different nature. 

Just as her thoughts were shifting from the beautiful colors of the sun and sky to the colors of his lips and eyes, she was startled by a hand wrapping tightly around her upper arm. 

“Is this what you do every morning?” he whispered low as his other hand snaked around her other arm, his body caging her in against the wall. 

Her mouth went dry, all words escaping her

“Why didn’t you wake me? So we could watch the sunrise together?” he was using that silky tone of voice that she both loved and hated. 

“Maybe I wanted to be alone.” she tried to push him away with her words and her hands. 

Neither worked.

He moved closer and said, ”I don’t believe you. You’re avoiding me.”

She glared at him at close range and it was enough for him to back off a little, but he didn’t let go. 

“Oh really?  _ I’m _ avoiding  _ you _ ?” her indignant tone made it clear he was the guilty party. 

His face sobered a little and his hands loosened their grip on her arms. He didn’t let go and she didn’t try to escape.

“I thought you needed some space, time.”  _ I was sad and angry at you for what you said. _

“I did. I do.”  _ I feel guilty for hurting you and I’m terrified of caving in to my desires.  _

“Are you going to keep doing this? Letting me sleep next to you but running away every morning?” 

She didn’t know how to answer that and it irritated her that he was calling her out. She shoved hard against his chest and his hands fell from her arms. She turned to walk down the corridor away from him, but she should have known better than to think he would let it go there. His palm slapped against the stone wall right in front of her and he pressed his chest into her shoulder so she knew she couldn’t go anywhere.

“Answer me.” his tone was quiet but demanding. 

She stayed facing away from him when she responded, “Are you going to continue leaving me alone all day in a house with your horrible family?”

“I never want to leave you alone. I want to be with you always. You’re my wife.” he bent so that he could press himself closer against her and whisper gently in her ear.

She gulped down the thrill that he sent up her spine and unconsciously clenched her thighs. This was the moment she could choose. He was admitting his feelings, leaving the door open for her to reciprocate or walk away from him. She turned to face him, his arm stayed rigid pushing against the wall.

“Am I your wife?” she implored demurely. 

The desire in his eyes flamed brighter, his lips parted in heavy breath. 

“It doesn’t feel like it.” she didn’t intend for her quiet confession to come out as a needy sigh. 

When he heard her tone of voice all the air left his lungs in a whoosh, and he moved in on her, trapping her between his arms and against his body. She could feel his arousal against her stomach. He’d never been this bold with her before. It electrified her. 

“Let me prove it?” he looked down at her with hooded eyes as his words ghosted over her lips. 

She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by his proximity. But shutting out one sense intensified others, and she could feel every wrought muscle of him, all the hard strength and soft warmth of him. 

“ _ Yes. _ ” she breathed out her answer before she could think too much about it. 

She didn’t have time to open her eyes before his lips crashed into hers. Her skull ground painfully into the stone behind her and she was sure her lips would be swollen from the force of his kiss, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. His desire poured out of him, too long contained, and she drank it up. The lack of oxygen in her lungs made her feel as if she would float away, so she grabbed hold of his sleep shirt, the cotton stretching and balling up in her fists. When she felt his lips part, she followed his lead, and he pushed his tongue in to taste her. 

Things progressed quickly, her inhibitions gone with the dry summer wind. She let him kiss her how and where he wanted, his mouth leaving bruises on her lips, his beard rubbing her neck red. His hands roamed her body, first around her back, then in her hair, and now pulling her into him by the waist. He hadn’t yet put them where she really wanted them, but she knew he was waiting for a sign from her to proceed down that path. 

Her dress was modest in length but made up for it with a deep v neckline. When she put it on, there  _ was _ a small desire to tempt him at the back of her mind, but now he’d seen her in it and she  _ knew  _ he was tempted. His hands skimmed her ribs and he cast his eyes down to her chest when he moved from kissing one side of her neck to the other.

“ _ Please? _ ”  _ Touch me. _

He groaned into her neck and bucked into her unconsciously, and she knew he was past the point of words. She pulled at his wrist so that his hand slid from her ribs up to her breast. His fingers gently squeezed her soft flesh as his teeth sunk into the delicate skin of her neck. She gasped in surprise and arousal and it was all the permission he needed to bring his other hand to her other breast. It was her turn to buck into him, her body moving in it’s own natural rhythm. 

He grew bolder with every one of her positive responses. This time he didn’t wait for her to guide him, but slipped his fingers under the fabric of her dress and beneath her simple bra to gain access to her bare breasts. She moaned into his mouth when he brushed against her sensitive peaks, only spurring him to do it again. It was uncanny how he could read her. They had always been able to communicate with just a look, but he didn’t even need to look at her to know what she wanted. She supposed they had done this once before, and she thoroughly enjoyed it, so he had some experience in this field. But when he began pulling up the fabric of her skirt to touch the skin of her thighs she was convinced he was reading her mind. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life so she wouldn’t drown in the sea of her own desire. Her knees were already weak but they became increasingly wobbly the higher he pulled her skirt up until she felt his fingers brush against the fabric of her underwear and he had to put a knee between her thighs to keep her upright against the wall. It wasn’t like this the last time. There was a haste, a desperation that she hadn’t felt before. She wondered if it would always be like this with him, if they would always have this almost addiction to each other. 

He could feel it too, she could tell when he kissed her hard and ran his hands from her hips to her ass. She held on tighter and kissed him back, rubbing herself on his thigh while her fingers found purchase in his dark hair. He was emboldened by her movements to squeeze a little and slip just the tips of his fingers under the hem of her panties. When she made a soft sound of arousal in the back of her throat he dropped any pretenses and proceeded to push her underwear down, his hands sliding from her lower back to her upper thighs in one smooth motion. She shimmied her hips until her panties dropped to the floor at her ankles and she stepped out of them as quickly as her shaky legs would allow. 

She was bare for him, the thought should have been more frightening than exciting to her, but she was running on pure passion, her mind mostly switched off. She did have the wherewithal to know he needed to be bare too, at least a little bit. So she pulled at the stretchy waistband of his sleep pants as he pulled her leg up around his waist by the knee. She freed him more easily than she thought, and before she knew how it happened he was poised at her entrance, begging to push in. 

“ _ Please? _ ” she’d never heard his voice that desperately gravelly before. 

“ _ Yes. _ ” she’d never heard her voice that desperately aroused before. 

He pushed all the way in in one strong thrust. She cried out a little, in pleasure and pain, and he clamped a hand over her mouth to quiet her. The last thing they needed was an entire household of people to discover them. Her arousal spiked, the thought of being caught at any moment and his forcefulness making her nearly delirious with lust. She soaked him, making it easy for him to slide in and out with speed and finesse. 

It had only been a minute or two but she was already close. She didn’t know how to tell him what she needed, even if she knew herself she didn’t have the ability to form words. She held on for dear life, one hand on the arm that was lifting her leg and the other wrapped around the back of his neck. Her nails digging into his skin told him she was close, so he took his hand away from her mouth and brought it between their bodies. He only needed to rub a few times and she was falling apart around him. He returned his hand to her mouth to mute her screams as he pushed through her aftershocks to reach his release. He buried his face in her hair and groaned into her shoulder until he was spent. 

Her legs ached from their awkward position standing so long. He could sense her discomfort and slipped out of her, quickly tucking himself back into his sleep pants before slowly lowering her leg from his hip. He held her there and made sure she had her balance before bending down to retrieve her panties. Instead of pocketing them like she thought he might, he pulled them right side out and helped her step into them. He surprised her again by smoothing the neckline of her dress and flattening the skirt so that she was modest once again. 

He didn’t say anything but grabbed her hand, linking their fingers, and pulled her away from their corrupted corner of the Konak. They remained speechless for the duration of the short walk back to their room. The sun was fully risen now and the rest of the household would soon begin to rouse. They made it back to the room without anyone seeing them, and he locked the door behind them as soon as it was shut. He took a breath and finally looked up at her. She had her back pressed against the locked door, he was standing before her with a look of relief and satisfaction on his face. 

“So, do you feel more like my wife?” his raised eyebrow and curved mouth were decidedly arrogant. 

“I don’t know. Do you feel more like my husband?” she raised her brow in turn, challenging him. 

“I’m not sure. We might have to try again to find out.” his curved lip turned into a full fledged devilish grin. 

She pushed against his chest in indignance, but he caught her by the wrists, trapping her once again. 

“Yes. I do feel more like your husband. And I wouldn’t mind feeling like your husband every day for the rest of my life.” he said it with a mixture of sincerity and playfulness that she couldn’t resist. 

“Then will you take your wife back to bed? I’m tired.” she wanted nothing more than to fall asleep with her head on his chest.

“Anything for you dear.” he said as he scooped her up in his arms bridal style to carry her to their bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I get the best ideas in the middle of the night when I get up to pee. I don't question it, I just go with it.


End file.
